


Patchwork

by LeggyStarscream



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, mild robogore, old married bickering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeggyStarscream/pseuds/LeggyStarscream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short drabble for Eiseedoesit; Crosshairs gets in a bad traffic accident, and Hound has to clean up his bondmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patchwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eiseedoesit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiseedoesit/gifts).



When Hound told Drift that he and Crosshairs were going to sparkbond, Drift - in his usually vague manner of speaking, had warned Hound that the bond would allow the mechs to share emotions and sensations - both positive and negative.

Hound's reply, at the time, was "Good. That'll make fraggin' more fun."

Drift, to Hound's surprise, was less shocked and more sympathetic, shaking his helm and muttering something about mechatoads and molten slag.

Hound had paid it no further thought at the time - the two mechs, as stated, mainly used their bond in the berth. As so, when Hound felt a large blast of pain coming over his bond, he was taken completely aback.

_Oy. Twinkletoes. The frag?_ Hound sent over their comm channels.

_Acci- -ent with a- . Help. Ple-._ came back as the reply. Hound's processor stalled. The sparkbond was still strong, but something was wrong.

Crosshairs' current coordinates were easily called up, and Hound made a quick left from the middle of an intersection, narrowly avoiding running into the human driving next to him.

Crosshairs was only - Hound converted it to human time, just for practice - a three hour's drive away, right near the outskirts of the town that Crosshairs was exploring.

He found Crosshairs in alt, flipped on his back, dents and scratches all over his frame. As he got closer, he spotted energon, pooling up underneath his bondmate, leaking from several of the wounds. The sun was setting on the human planet, and the area was deserted, so Hound reverted to his root mode, poking Crosshairs gingerly in the side.

"Wow - you look like scrap. The frag happened 'ta you?" Hound said, his grade-three medical protocols springing to life. Crosshairs was by far the better medic between the two of them - the sharpshooter had to be, to keep Hound in one piece - after all, he wasn't the smallest target.

Crosshairs didn't respond. Preliminary scans showed Hound that the green mech was still online - not that he needed the scans thanks to their sparkbond - and while there weren't any damaged internal components, Crosshairs was nearly down to critical levels of energon from the leaks. Hound hit his own helm, attempting to recalibrate the scanner, but it returned the same answer the second time. Hound looked around the area - small puddles of energon glowed under the nearby street lamp, but none of them were large enough on their own to drain Crosshairs as far as he had fallen.

"Whelp, buddy. Let's get you outta here," Hound said, pulling a cable out of his subspace and attaching it to Crosshairs’s front. Hound flipped his bondmate back onto his wheels, and attached the cable onto his hitch - located, much to his amusement, directly above his interface ports. He transformed back into alt, and pulled Crosshairs out of the town, quietly grumbling on a short range comm frequency as he drove into the desert.

About a half hour later, Hound was reasonably certain the two of them were far enough from human society. He stood up, and re-engaged his medical scanner, looking for the plating that covered Crosshairs' medical ports. After a twice-over of his bondmate's frame, he finally found the ports - hidden under some plates on Crosshairs' aft.

"Heh. 'Course it'd be here," Hound laughed to himself, opening the port as delicately as he could.

Hound plugged in his hardline cable into the port, and his processor nearly exploded with data. It took him a few moments to gather himself, but then the major problem appeared before him, bright as day - a major energon line was severed in the crash - not that there was any reason that it SHOULD have, thought Hound.

Hound sent the medical override code to Crosshairs' T-cog, forcing him back into root, lying on his back. A quick glance showed that what appeared as a lot of minor scratches in Crosshairs' alt mode were actually a single large gash in the mech's chassis, hitting long and deep - Hound's spark sputtered momentarily when he spied some protoform in the wound. Still, nothing that couldn't be handled effectively.

Hound pulled out his emergency med kit, and placed the small metal box over the wound, before sending the comm to activate it. The nanites within worked - the process always took longer than Hound woulda liked, especially when he was on the receiving end - and once kit gave back the all-clear, Hound sent the hard-online command to Crosshairs.

"C'mon, ya piece of slag. Back on yer pedes." Crosshairs' optics reset and focused - always the final step, and the sharpshooter gave a start, helm and optics jerking around. "Easy, yer Vosian highness. Yer fine, now."

Crosshairs' spark - pulsing much quicker than typical from the boot-up process - began calming down when he saw his bondmate kneeling next to him.

"Sorry 'bout th'worry, mate," Crosshairs' vocalizer was soft, but strong. "Fraggin' human caught me offguard."

Hound laughed - one low, loud laugh. "'Course one did. What, were yer optics off too?"

"Aw, can it, ya lug," Crosshairs replied, voice regaining its usual strength. "Keep talkin' like that, an' I'll crunch YOU next time, ya hear?"

"Whatever you say, sweetums." Crosshairs huffed - Hound had heard the human term of endearment somewhere, shortly after they arrived on this planet, and made a crack about the taste of Crosshairs' valve.

Crosshairs had ran after him with one of Drift's swords.

"So, Twinkletoes, d'ya think you can drive?"

Crosshairs picked himself up to one knee, slowly getting back on his pedes with Hound's support.

"Ah think I'll be able 'ta make it, you blubberin' pylon. Least if no fraggin' humans show up."

He tested his weight on his joints, and dove back into alt.

"Catch me if ya can, ya overgrown slagpool."

The two drove off into the desert, leaving only a trail of dust behind them.


End file.
